


Drabble Dump 3

by InuShiek



Series: Inu's Drabbles [4]
Category: MTMTE - Fandom, The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Prime, Transformers: Rescue Bots, Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Bondage, Choking, Collars, Cuffs, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Electricity, Femdom, Food Kink, Foot Jobs, Forced Orgasm, Gags, Genital Piercing, Leashes, M/M, Master/Pet, Masturbation, Mirror Sex, NSFW, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Piercings, Pony Play, Self Insert Weekend, Sex Toys, Slash, Spark Sex, Sticky, Topping from the Bottom, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 14:08:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4351829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InuShiek/pseuds/InuShiek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More "soft-dom" starters and one self-insert weekend drabble</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drabble Dump 3

first is the self-insert

-

“I wonder if you would do me a favor?” Optimus Prime asks.

The human looks up from her computer screen. “Whatever you need,” she replies, smiling as she saves her work editing vacation photos.

The Autobot leader kneels so that he’s much closer to her level, though he still towers above her. “I have been asked to transport cargo several states away. It will require a rather lengthy drive, and I need someone to pose as my driver. Would you perhaps be willing?”

“Oh, sure! Yeah of course. Is… Is something wrong with your holoform?” she asks, curious.

Optimus glances away. “No, it is fully functional,” he begins, pausing for a long moment. “I would like some company, however. It… is a long drive. If you would rather not, of course that is your decision-”

“I’d love to go. When do we leave? I’ll need enough time to pack a few things.”

“Tomorrow morning,” he smiles, relived. “Thank you, Inu.”

* * *

 

"Bad boy/girl. I thought we talked about not doing this." with dom!Megatron and sub!Star?

-

Starscream trembles, shifting restlessly on his pedes while he tugs at the cuffs keeping him tethered to the ceiling in the middle of the room. The movement has the thin rope that’s decorating his frame rubbing across his sensors, and one sinks down into a wing joint. “P-Please, Master!” he begs, twitching in pleasure.

“Something wrong, Starscream?” Megatron asks teasingly as he watches Starscream. From his position sprawled on his berth, he has a perfect view of his squirming seeker’s frame.

Likewise, Starscream has a perfect view of Megatron while his Master lazily strokes his own spike and leaves the seeker tethered and desperate.

Starscream’s knees threaten to give way when he watches his Master rub his thumb across the tip of his spike. The seeker licks his lip plates as his valve clenches on nothing. He could be the one making his Master feel good! Instead he’s strung up like an ornament- just something pretty to look at and masturbate to-

A high pitched whine accompanies the soft click of Starscream’s panels unlocking and sliding away without permission. He jerks in surprise. “Master, I’m sorry I-”

“Bad boy. I thought we talk about not doing this,” Megatron scolds, his servo ceasing all movement on his spike. “And you were doing so well with your training.”

Megatron stands and takes a step to nearly be touching the seeker.

With his Master looming over him and knowing that he can do nothing but hope for mercy, Starscream’s charge peaks when he squeezes his thighs together- that tiny bit of stimulation to his valve being more than enough.

Once he’s able to open his optics, the first thing the seeker sees is Megatron’s knowing smirk.

* * *

 

"I think you deserve a treat." Megastar, but dominant Starscream? B/c too much subscream.

-

Groaning in frustration, Megatron leans back into Starscream as best as his predicament will allow. Having his wrists tied to his knees, his pedes secured to his aft, and face to the floor doesn’t leave him with a lot of room to maneuver, however. At least not without toppling over from his precarious position balanced atop his knees.

Starscream moans quietly, wrapping Megatron’s leash around his servo and pulling on it. “Do that again, pet.”

Frowning in concentration, Megatron manages to contort his frame so that he slides off and back onto his Master’s spike. Without waiting for another order, he repeats the motion shakily, unaccustomed to moving his body this way.

“ _Good_ , pet. I think you deserve a treat….  _If_  you can make me overload this way, that is,” Starscream promises, lightly scraping the claws on one servo down Megatron’s backplates to make the bound mech shiver in pleasure and clench around his spike.

* * *

 

Megatron/Bumblebee, any verse. "Don't cover your face, I want to see you." (Sorry if this is weird but RAREPAIRS)

-

With a short cry, Bumblebee slaps his servos over his faceplates when Megatron easily grips the scout’s thighs and pulls his firmly downward onto the thick spike.

Megatron chuckles as he moves one servo so that he can tease the scout’s spike housing with a digit. “Just as tight as ever, Bumblebee,” he purrs as he watches the scout squirm in the mirror. With Bumblebee’s back to his chest plating, he has a perfect view of the yellow mech’s frame from trembling thighs, to dripping array, to embarrassed shake of the helm.

Bumblebee gasps sharply when there is a firm touch to his sensory nub at the apex of his valve, and he curls forward until Megatron’s other arm wraps around his torso to pull him firmly back up against the strong silver frame.

“Don’t cover your face, I want to see you. I want  _you_  to see you,” Megatron orders as he rubs circles on that sensitive nub.

This time, Bumblebee nearly squeals at the sudden influx of pleasure. With his faceplates heating and flushing red, the scout lowers his servos to grasp the arm that’s supporting him. “Megatron, please-”

“Shhh, look.”

Bumblebee looks into the mirror before he can think better of it and be too embarrassed.

He trembles at the sight. His thighs are spread obscenely wide, giving him a perfect view of Megatron’s spike stretching his valve open while the larger mech continues rubbing his node. He rocks his hips, managing to sink further down onto it. Megatron groans, and Bumblebee’s optics snap up to the scarred faceplates.

Megatron’s optics are almost unfocused, and certainly overbright with excessive charge. Bumblebee shivers at the expression, realizing that he’s got Megatron wrapped around his servo, despite the fact that Megatron is physically taking the lead.

* * *

 

"Come sit in my lap, pet." Megatron/Starscream. Preferably with Dom!Megs.

-

Starscream sighs heavily as he rests his helm on a fist. Skywarp’s most recent report is nearly complete jibberish, and the trine leader knows that it’s Skywarp’s way of needling him. If he makes the mistake of rising to the bait, Skywarp will know that the reports, while they  _do_ technically include all pertinent information within the nonsense, actually annoy the Decepticon second in command and Skywarp will only make them worse.

Besides, he’s nearly finished reading it.

Across the room lounging on the berth, Megatron smirks. He’s been reading Soundwave’s report, which is flawless, while knowingly watching Starscream’s wing twitch in agitation.

“I’m done with this folly!” the seeker finally announces, tossing the data pad across the desk in frustration. He stands to get his energon flowing once more, and presses his palms to his optics. Skywarp has been testing Starscream’s patience for what seems like ages, and both the trine leader and Thundercracker were at a loss for solutions. 

Starscream silently reminds himself that the report is finished now, and that the evening is quite young. He knows that Megatron has  _been_ finished with his work for the night, so he doesn’t even bother checking before he lowers his servos and stalks across the room to the side of the berth.

Without a word, Starscream gracefully drops to his knees and withdraws his collar from the drawer of the berthside table. He finally looks into Megatron’s optics as he presents his collar on his palms. His Master always knows how to work the stress out of his frame.

When Megatron takes the collar and locks it around the seeker’s throat, a clearly visible shiver passes through his frame. “I’m proud of you for finishing that report. I know Skywarp did not hake it easy,” the Decepticon leader says, placing Soundwave’s report on the table.

Starscream resists the urge to rant about his trinemate. Now is not the time to vent his frustrations…at least not verbally. His Master will ask for words when he wants them.

“Come sit in my lap, pet.“ 

The seeker nearly leaps up off of the floor to follow the command, his interface array already uncomfortably warm.

* * *

 

"Tell me what you want." Prime Soundwave/Megatron ?

-

With his vents struggling to cool his slim frame, Soundwave trembles. His digits ghost across Megatron’s chassis as he slowly lowers himself completely back onto the larger mech’s spike.

Megatron grasps Soundwave’s hips and holds him firmly in his lap. The spymaster’s helm lolls back as he arches against him. “Tell me what you want, Soundwave, and I will give it to you,” he says before nipping sharply at the slender mech’s neck.

Soundwave fairly writhes adop his Lord’s lap, and his valve cycles down even tighter around the spike stretching it. Blearily, Soundwave scrambles to comprehend what Megatron has said. In the face of his overwhelming charge, it’s difficult for him to manage. He’s held off his charge release, opting instead to bring Megatron to overload several times already, but his circuits are buzzing and his biolights are glowing ever brighter.

Soundwave turns his visor back to Megatron now, still grasping for his response. “My most loyal servant,” he finally plays, the audio crackling with static as his valve clenches rhythmically around Megatron’s spike.

Immensely pleased with Soundwave’s chosen response, Megatron growls as he flips them so that Soundwave is on his back beneath him. “That you are. You’ve served me very well,” the warlord praises in a deep tone that has Soundwave quivering around his spike. “Now I want you to overload for me, Soundwave.”

* * *

 

"Move your hands to the side, I want to hear your moans." ((Megatron/Soundwave?))

-

Desperately burying his mask into the berth, Soundwave pulls his knees up further to better angle his aft for Megatron. Although they both lament being unable to watch one another, this position is the most pleasurable for them.

When Megatron uses the better angle to firmly prod Soundwave’s ceiling node with his spike, the spymaster nearly cries out. He leans back into each thrust, and the increased strength forces Soundwave to cover his visor with a servo.

“Soundwave,” Megatron calls, slowing his thrusts. “Move your hands to the side. I want to hear your moans.”

Desperate to get those quick, strong thrusts back against his ceiling node and obey Megatron, Soundwave removes his servo to grasp at the edge of the berth instead. For good measure, he turns his helm so that any noises that he makes will not be muffled by the berth.

“Excellent, Soundwave,” the larger mech praises. He presses down on Soundwave’s back, pinning the lithe mech down before he resumes his thrusts.

Being helpless beneath Megatron’s weight and being praised has his charge skyrocketing, and Soundwave releases a choked cry of pleasure as his hips work to meet his Lord’s thrusts.

* * *

 

SS/M "What a pretty blush."

-

Starscream shivers, squeezing his knees against Megatron’s hips. The seeker wants to beg Megatron to touch his valve, but all he can do at the moment is swallow and squirm in his bindings.

The larger mech chuckles, his servos gently petting down along Starscream’s sides. “I can see it, you know,” he says, referring to the newest addition to their play.

Starscream whimpers, but it’s choked off by his gag.

Well, “gag” may be an understatement.

Really it’s a large false spike that’s been attached to a gag and slid down into his throat before being locked there. Starscream actually has to keep his helm tilted back to accommodate it while Megatron continues to tease him.

“Your intake is bulging nearly down to your chest plating, Starscream. I might start having you spend your free time like this,” Megatron muses aloud while his claws tease the seeker’s hips. “Would you like that? To have your throat plugged up until I see fit to use it or give you energon?”

Starscream groans around the thick toy, arching up sharply. He wants to tell Megatron to frag him- to keep him gagged and ready to swallow the real thing- to just please  _do something other than tease him_ \- but he can’t speak.

Megatron leans in close to Starscream’s faceplates while one of his digits gently traces the seeker’s soaking wet valve. “What a pretty blush, Starscream. Are you close?”

Embarrassingly enough, Starscream  _is_  close to overload with only these teasing touches and a toy lodged down his throat. With his faceplates heating further, the bound seeker nods as much as the thick spike will allow.

The warlord chuckles quietly, straightening up to loom high above Starscream. “Then overload,” he orders as he wraps one servo around Starscream’s throat and squeezes while he slams three digits into the dripping valve. He curls his digits hard into a sensor cluster, toppling the seeker into a hard overload.

* * *

 

"You're so beautiful, all spread out like this, just for me." Windblade and Starscream

-

Windblade lifts her pede off of the seeker’s aft. She’s got him on his knees with his face pressed to the floor, presenting his aft to her. “Alright, let’s see.”

That’s all Starscream needs to hear before he opens his panel to expose his charged interface array. 

“Mmm, nice and wet already. Good,” Windblade praises as she gently runs her toecap up along the underside of Starscream’s pressurized spike.

Vents huffing out hot air, Starscream reaches both of his servos back to spread his valve, and he shivers when he feels a bit of lubricant drip free.

“You’re so beautiful,” Windblade praises, pressing her toecap against Starscream’s nub now. “All spread out like this, just for me. How long can you hold this position for me? Hmm?”

Starscream tries to answer and insist that he can do this as long as the femme wants, but she wiggles her pede which is still pressed against his oversensitive node. All that he actually manages to say is a garbled, wheezy “ _Please.”_

* * *

 

"No need to be so shy, it's just you and me." with KO and BD because I mis-read an anon's ask and wrote the wrong thing, but I'm not deleting my ficlet damn it

-

Breakdown shifts restlessly, tugging at his cuffs. Knock Out’s got him locked to a narrow medical berth so that he’s slightly bent over it. The problem? It’s an actual medical berth in the actual medical bay. “Doc-”

“Shhh, No need to be so shy. It’s just you and me,” Knock Out reassures the big blue mech. “You know both the main door and this private wing door are locked. You’re mine for the evening. No one will interrupt this. Open.”

Faceplates heating, Breakdown obediently opens his mouth for Knock Out to press the large rubber ball in and secure it around his helm. His engine revs as he bites down onto it, and Knockout locks a collar around his neck.

“Perfect,” Knock Out praises as he slips in underneath Breakdown. The large mech shifts to give Knock Out as much room as he can, but the medic purposefully cuffed him to limit his movement. Still, the gesture is appreciated as Knock Out wraps the leash around his fist and bends over the berth. “Are you going to be a good pet for me, Breakdown?” he asks coyly, casting a glance back over his shoulder.

Breakdown nods quickly, restraining himself from grinding against the medic’s aft.

“Good,” Knock Out says before he opens his panel. Sighing, Knock Out reaches down to ease the large toy in his valve out.

Stunned, Breakdown watches as a toy nearly the size of his spike emerges from Knock Out’s valve. They’ve both been working diligently all day, so Knock Out must have…been holding that inside him since they awoke from recharge this morning….

Breakdown moans around his gag at the revelation, unable to keep his own panel open when the toy pops free, leaving Knock Out’s valve gaping and empty.

Knock Out tosses the toy to the side, and then helpfully assists Breakdown in lining his spike up. He tugs on the large mech’s leash, wordlessly ordering Breakdown to press his spike forward. “ _Good boy_ ,” he praises, pulling harder on the leash as Breakdown groans in pleasure around his gag.

* * *

 

"No need to be so shy, it's just you and me." KO/SS with dom KO, b/c I loves me some top KO

-

“Shhh, relax,” Knock Out soothes the seeker.

Starscream is quivering beneath the medic, trying vainly to thrust his spike deeper into the pretty red mech. His bindings hold him immobile, however, and he only succeeds in squirming. Vents heaving, Starscream admits defeat and resigns himself to his rising charge with no way to dispell it. He goes limp, staring up at Knock Out with overbright and pleading optics.

“That’s it,” the medic coos as he pets the seeker’s chest plating. “Open up for me.”

“Wh-What?!” Starscream sputters, shifting nervously.

“Only if you are comfortable, of course, Starscream,” Knock Out reassures the seeker as he rises and falls once around the seeker’s spike. “But there is no need to be so shy. It’s just you and me, my pretty little seeker.”

The extra jolt of pleasure and flattery is what convinces him, and Starscream unlocks his chest plating to reveal his brightly glowing spark to his partner.

Knock Out moans, gently tracing the edges of the plating with a digit. “Gorgeous.”

Starscream shivers at the contact, nearly reaching overload. “Knock Out, please-”

The medic doesn’t wait for the bound mech to finish his pleas before he finally resumes riding the seeker’s spike. “Overload for me, Star.”

The seeker arches, vocalizer hitching and spitting static as Knock Out’s claws scrape perfectly against his spark’s casing and he tumbles into overload.

* * *

 

Inu if it isnt too much to ask, it would be so great if you could do for the fic drabble thing "Move your hands to the side, I want to hear your moans." With Bee and Knock Out

-

Knock Out sighs in pleasure as he lazily rocks his hips. “You always feel so lovely, Bumblebee,” he murmurs as he repeats the motion.

Beneath him, Bumblebee quivers as Knock Out rides his spike. To keep from embarrassing himself with any needy sounds, the yellow mech covers his mouth with both servos. Knock Out just looks so gorgeous above him, not to mention the way the medic knows how to clench his valve just right-

Knock Out stops moving. “Move your hands to the side, I want to hear your moans,” he orders, arching his back. “Besides, I’d much rather have your hands on me, Bumblebee.”

The promise of getting his hands on the pretty red racer is what really convinces Bumblebee to move his hands. So what if he makes those embarrassingly high-pitched sounds? He’s got a gorgeous mech in his hands and on his spike. Anything to please Knock Out.

“ _Much_ better,” Knock Out purrs when Bumblebee’s hands cup his plating and immediately begin teasing his seams. Satisfied and eager to make the yellow bot quirm and squeak, Knock Out gathers his knees underneath himself to lift himself up along Bumblebee’s spike.

* * *

 

Are you still doing this bc Knockout/Smokescreen "How would you like to earn a reward?"

-

“How would you like to earn a reward?”

That was the question that had gotten Smokescreen in this mess.

Knock Out had asked him that single question, and Smokescreen knew that “reward” likely meant overload- his first he’d be allowed in nearly a week. All he has to do is earn it.

Easier said than done.

With Smokescreen’s eager nodding as permission, Knock Out had set to work adding even more tack to his pony. Smokescreen likes being kept in light bondage during many of their off hours, in this case it was a pair of cuffs, a collar, and a bit gag, but his reward will be earned in something a bit more…involved.

It doesn’t take long for Knock Out to have his pony decked out with more tack. A proper bridle with blinders to limit his vision, an armbinder to keep his arms securely out of the way, a harness mainly for decoration in this case, a lock on his panel, and a pair of hobbles keeping his ankles chained very close together to leave Smokescreen only able to shuffle slowly in any direction.

“Don’t you look handsome,” Knock Out praises. He walks away from the bound mech to lie down on their shared berth. He opens his panel, smirking. “Your task is simple: make me overload. If you can manage it, I’ll tie you to the breeding frame. You like that, don’t you?”

Smokescreen trembles. Of  _course_  he loves the breeding frame, but how is he supposed to do this? His hands are useless, he can’t spike the medic, and the bit is in his way, too.

“Well?” Knock Out goads his pony.

Hopeful that he can stretch his glossa past the gag to pleasure Knock Out, Smokescreen begins to inch his way over to the berth.

* * *

 

"What a pretty blush." Sunstreaker/Cosmos

-

Gasping sharply, Cosmos uses one servo to gently cup one of Sunstreaker’s helm fins while the other balls up into a fist to press against his mask. “S-Sunstreaker! Oh my-”

Sunstreaker chuckles, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks firmly around Cosmos’s spike. This has the minibot crying out when Sunstreaker maintains the suction as he pulls off his spike with a loud pop. “Did that feel good, Cosmos” he asks teasingly, knowing fully well that it had.

Cosmos nods frantically, gently using his servo to urge Sunstreaker to swallow his spike once more.

“Tell me,” he orders before he licks the leaking tip of the spike.

“Wha- oh!! Oh your mouth I just- Sunstreaker the way you move your glossa is- Oh Primus- and you always know when to suck and- S-Sunstreaker  _please_!”

Sunstreaker smiles, wrapping his mouth around the tip of the spike to deliver a brief suck, but then he pulls off again. Cosmos whines, his thighs trembling around Sunstreaker’s helm. “What a pretty blush,” Sunstreaker coos, able to see the glow of heated metal peeking out from underneath the mech’s mask.

Cosmos’s faceplates heat even further in embarrassment. “ _Sunstreaker_ ,” he pleads.

Deciding that he’s teased the poor minibot enough, Sunstreaker once again swallows Cosmos’s spike.

* * *

 

Whirl/Cosmos "I think you deserve a treat."

-

“Aww, look at you. You’re being so good,” Whirl praises. He’s had Cosmos riding a toy that’s suctioned to the floor for the past hour, and the minibot has been struggled during the last half of that time.

“Whirl- I can’t- please..!”

“Oh, fine. I think you deserve a treat. Sit,” he orders.

Cosmos immediately lets his legs collapse, and he gasps whe the toy is sheathed in his valve. Whirl is holding an energon candy in front of his mask. Without waiting, Cosmos sends the command for it to slide away into its housing, and he opens his mouth gratefully.

* * *

"No need to be so shy, it's just you and me." Boulder/Chase

-

“This is an inappropriate use of-”

“Shhh,” Boulder hushes Chase. He’s borrowed a set of stasis cuffs to bind the mech, but Chase hadn’t seen this until they were already locked around his wrists and delivering a numbing buzz to his frame. 

Boulder starts by gently kneading Chase’s plating. The bot is tense- always has been, really, but it’s gotten worse on Earth. He leans in to deliver a kiss to Chase’s forehelm, making the bot blush.

“Boulder…” he says, frame trembling faintly.

“No need to be so shy, it’s just you and me,” Boulder whispers softly. They’d retreated into the tunnels beneath the Burnes’ home, so they were not going to be interrupted.

“I’m not  _shy-!”_  Chases’s voice rises in pitch when Boulder effortlessly pins his arms above his helm to the tunnel floor, leaving him feeling even more vulnerable and exposed.

Boulder chuckles kindly, delivering little kisses down Chase’s neck and chassis. “Relax, Chase,” he murmurs as he finally reaches the heated panel. He mouthes at it, extending his glossa to lick the seams. “Open for me?”

* * *

 

"Shh, I'm going to keep you safe." - SG! Megatron/Starscream

-

Starscream gasps sharply, optics overbright beneath his blindfold. Beneath the bulk of his leader against his back pinning him to the berth, the only freedom he has is to lift his aft higher into the air.

“That’s it,” Megatron praises as he trails his dermas across the expanse of Starscream’s quivering wings. “Let go.”

“My Lord-” Starscream whimpers, his entire frame tensing. He reaches back to grope blindly for some of Megatron’s plating to latch onto.

“Shh,” Megatron hushes the seeker, grasping the servo with his own to press it back down onto the berth. “I’m going to keep you safe. Let go for me, Starscream.“

* * *

 

"Shh, I'm going to keep you safe." Soundwave/Megatron

-

Megatron’s servos press down gently on Soundwave’s chassis as he grinds his spike deep into the mech. 

Soundwave shivers, tilting his helm back as he submits fully. He digs his pedes into the berth so that he can tilt his hips for Megatron, but otherwise he doesn’t move out of the position that Megatron had put him in.

“Soundwave… Are you still connected to the Nemesis’ computers?” he asks, suspicious.

The slim mech freezes, turning his mask to face Megatron. After a long moment, he nods once. He has to stay connected. There is so much to monitor- security cameras, energon levels, Starscream-

“Disconnect.”

Soundwave recoils slightly. “So much can go wrong-” he plays, the words of a miner who had doubted the stability of a cave system.

“Nothing will go wrong, Soundwave. There is a full crew on duty. We will be notified of any problems. Disconnect.”

Scenarios immediately begin filling his processors- each one worse than the last. How can he protect Lord Megatron if he cannot monitor-

“Shh, I’m going to keep you safe, Soundwave,” Megatron interrupts the spymaster’s frantic thoughts with a gentle servo cupping Soundwave’s helm.

Only now does Soundwave realize that he’s trembling. He forces his vision to focus on Megatron, and his vents gasp in one burst of cool air before they settle back down. Soundwave nods, disconnecting. For Megatron, he uses an audible tone to signify that he’s disconnected.

“Good, Soundwave. I want your attention on me. I’m proud of you,” Megatron praises, rubbing his thumb across the screen affectionately before he resumes thrusting.

* * *

 

"Come sit in my lap, pet." Thunderhoof/Fracture

-

At first, Fracture had been sure that this would be easy. Thunderhoof had tied his arms into a box tie behind his back and then had him stand in the middle of the room. No big deal, right?

Then Thunderhoof had attached little weights to his anterior sensor and the piercing at the head of his spike. Still not a big deal.

Until Fracture, who has been standing stationary for an hour, fidgets. This sets those little weights swinging, and that is his undoing. With the weights moving, they gently tug the most sensitive bits of his equipment until they’re hot and stiff with arousal.

Thuderhoof smirks, watching the mech over the edge of his data pad. 

Fracture thrusts his hips against the sensation, swinging the weights wildly. “Th-Thunderhoof-”

“Ah ah ah,” Thunderhoof scolds. “That’s not what you call me, pet.”

“Master,” Fracture hurriedly corrects, but he’s already made the mistake.

“Too late. Another hour for you. Besides, I’m just to the good part of my book.”

Fracture huffs, trying to hold still so the weights will stop tormenting him, but now hips hips are intermittently twitching of their own accord. All he can do is attempt not to make too much noise.

Now that the show has gotten good, Thunderhoof is only pretending to read. Fracture is struggling to hold still, but it’s futile. It’s only another half an hour before his knees begin to tremble as his array leaks profusely to form a puddle at his feet. “Come sit in my lap, pet. I have something I’d rather you attend to,” he says, opening his panel to allow his own spike to extend.

Fracture sobs in both relief and dread. On one servo, he no longer has to stand here and be tormented by his jewelry and the weights. On the other, however, he’s got to walk across the room with his jewelry and the weights swinging even more. “Yes, Master. Thank you,” he pants, taking his first step.

* * *

 

"Come sit in my lap, pet." Me and- whoever you want.

-

“Good boy,” Knock Out praises as his pet licks his bowl of energon clean. He looks great like this, face buried in a bowl on the floor while his aft remains high in the air. Making the decision to bind Smokescreen’s lower legs to the uppers was certainly a good one, and the thick, bag-like mitts over his servos further reinforces the mech’s helplessness.

Smokescreen squirms happily, nudging his bowl toward Knock Out to show that it is indeed licked clean. He pushes his chest back up off of the floor, eagerly awaiting further instruction.

Knock Out smirks, allowing his panel to retract as he watches his pet. When he wraps a servo around his own spike and begins to lazily stroke it, Smokescreen licks his dermas. “Do you want a treat, pet?”

The bound bot nods so enthusiastically that the tags on his collar jingle and his doorwings bob as well.

“Hmm, and just how will you earn it?” Knock Out asks teasingly.

Smokescreen whines, confused. How is he supposed to answer when he’s not allowed to speak?! But Knock Out just watches him, continuing to stroke the spike that Smokescreen desperately wants to touch.

“Well?”

At a loss, Smokescreen decides begging is always an acceptable option. With this in mind, he sits back on his bound legs and draws his arms up to beg. For good measure, he also opens his mouth, extends his glossa, and whines.

Knock Out laughs, thumbing the tip of his spike. “Close enough. Come sit in my lap, pet.”

Smokescreen doesn’t have to be told twice. He scrambles forward and climbs onto the berth a little clumsily in his haste, but he’s quickly in Knock Out’s lap with his Master clipping a leash onto his collar.

* * *

 

"What a pretty blush." Any pairing with sub!Ultra Magnus?

-

It’s a hard-won victory, but a victory all the same.

Rodimus actually convinced Ultra Magnus to let him tie the larger mech up. At first, Ultra Magnus had been tense, unsure, and unaroused. But then Rodimus had done what he does best- talk.

He’d explained, in explicit detail, exactly what he could do to Ultra Magnus in this position.

There are lots of creative things to do with a mech that’s bound, legs spread, in a chair, and Rodimus informs Ultra Magnus of most of them, all the while stroking his own spike lazily.

Now, Ultra Magnus is trembling with his panels open while he leaks lubridant onto the chair beneath his aft. “Rodimus-”

“And last, but certainly not least,” Rodimus says with a smirk. “I could always just leave you here- an ornament for me to look at, hmm? Of course I’d need to decorate you first with an overload.”

And, on cue, Rodimus overloads onto Ultra Magnus’ chassis. There are splatters from his neck down to his groin. Panting, Rodimus continues to stroke his spike until his overload is well and truly over, and he observes the messy frame in front of him. “What a pretty blush,” he comments.

Faceplates heating even further at the attention, Ultra Magnus looks down at his own sloppy frame, complete with straining spike. He can’t see it, but he can tell that his valve is achingly swollen and empty as well. “P-Please, Rodimus.”

“Well, who can say no to that?” Rodimus asks teasingly as he taps the tip of the other mech’s leaking spike with a digit. Ultra Magnus gasps, twitching his hips upward eagerly, and Rodimus climbs up into his lap. He uses one servo to line Ultra Magnus’ large spike up with his valve as he brings the other up to his mouth. “Suck,” he orders, pressing four digits into the bound mech’s mouth as he slowly sinks down onto that aching spike.

* * *

 

Can you write a fanfic with Bayverse Ironhide as bottom and Ratchet as top? With maybe bdsm if you're okay with it?

([here is a gif of what's going on](https://33.media.tumblr.com/bbbe169890c0af6bde17d6d4b2414e25/tumblr_nqu916z9571txkuq7o1_500.gif))

-

Ironhide groans, servos clenching into fists. The straps holding his spread and vulnerable creak as he strains against them, but they remain strong. It feels like he’s making a mess of the berth beneath his hips, but the thick collar prevents him from looking downward. “Rach- Plesh-”

“Hush,” Ratchet orders from across the room. He chooses a shock stick with variable intensities before he returns to the berth. He kneels before his bound mate, finally allowing his panel to open. It’s tempting to call the sound that Ironhide makes a whine as he overloads, drooling around his ball gag.

Squirming, Ironhide attempts to thrust against the vibrator that’s been forcing overload after overload out of him, and he moans when it’s largely unsuccessful. He looks desperately at Ratchet. He’s lost count of the overloads that his valve has been subjected to, and his spike is aching fiercely with the ring snug around the base.

Ratchet’s engine rumbles soothingly as his servos pet Ironhide’s spread thighs. “Are you sore?” he asks, and Ironhide nods as much as the posture collar will allow. “Poor thing. Maybe I should take your mind off of it.”

Ironhide doesn’t have time to wonder what his bondmate means before there’s a sharp pain on one of his thighs.  _The shock stick_. Crying out, Ironhide jerks away from the sting, but Ratchet only delivers another to the opposite thigh. The vibrations against his oversensitive valve increase, and Ironhide overloads yet again even as shocks are delivered closer and closer to his array. “PLESH!”

“Go ahead and overload, I don’t mind,” Ratchet says offhandedly before he delivers a shock right on one of the swollen lips of Ironhide’s valve.

Sobbing, Ironhide struggles against his restraints at the intense pain. That’s not what he’d meant-

Another shock to the other side of his valve, and Ironhide wails.

“I said,  _overload_ ,” Ratchet growls, delivering a final shock directly to Ironhide’s abused little sensory nub.

There’s a binary screech before Ironhide’s vocalizer shorts out, and he overloads yet again at Ratchet’s ministrations.  _Primus_ , he wouldn’t give this up for the world.


End file.
